


Treats

by sabinelagrande



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Chocolate is a snack and so is Aziraphale, Clothing Porn, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), F/M, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Food Porn, One Shot, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Aziraphale gets to unwrap 24 presents. Why shouldn't Crowley get one?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 200
Collections: Ixnael’s Recommendations





	Treats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deepsix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepsix/gifts).



Aziraphale relishes her Advent calendar. 

Crowley knew she was going to; that's why he bought it, selecting it from the ultra-high-end chocolate shop that Aziraphale likes the best. He definitely doesn't know what some of the things in it are, but Aziraphale made a face of such unparalleled delight when he gave it to her that it had been worth every penny.

She's just now standing in front of it and opening today's appointed door, and she makes a sound of happiness at seeing her treat, something dark that's shaped like a leaf. She takes it out, breathing it in, though Crowley is pretty sure chocolate doesn't really smell like anything. She takes a small nibble and makes a noise of satisfaction.

"Dark chocolate with crisp mint pieces," Aziraphale says, in a way that makes it sound like a particularly fulfilling sex act. "Oh, this is delightful."

The way she eats the candy is absolutely fucking pornographic. She constrains herself to little bites to start with, but she can't keep it up for long, taking bigger pieces of it between her teeth. The amount of noise she makes is both unnecessary and makes Crowley's already tight jeans get tighter.

He hasn't jumped her every day of Advent, and for that he deserves a medal.

Aziraphale sighs deeply on completing the chocolate and licks her fingertips clean, sucking on her fingers in a way that spurs Crowley into action. "That's quite enough of that," Crowley says from behind her, and Aziraphale makes a surprised noise when Crowley pulls her to him.

"I don't know what you mean," Aziraphale says, her voice only stuttering a little as Crowley nips at her neck, his hands coming around to cup her full breasts.

"You know full well what you sound like when you do that," Crowley says, squeezing a respectful amount before letting one of them go.

"That's why you bought it for me," Aziraphale says, as Crowley's free hand slides down her flank. "Don't pretend you didn't set me up."

"I make trouble strictly as a hobby now," Crowley says.

"Do you intend to keep fondling me so?" Aziraphale asks. 

"You have twenty-four treats to unwrap," Crowley says, fingers sneakily rucking up her skirt. "How come I don't even get one?"

"You've already unwrapped me to your heart's content," Aziraphale says.

"Ah, but if it were really to my heart's content, I wouldn't be feeling you up now," Crowley says.

"Well, I can't fault that logic," Aziraphale says, as Crowley's hand finds her inner thigh, fingers tracing upwards. 

At the juncture of her thighs, Crowley is delighted to find a length of solid flesh, already hardening. He runs his fingers up the underside of her cock, thumbing the head until Aziraphale gasps.

"You were just going to hide this from me?" Crowley says. "Angel, you wound me."

"Oh, hush," Aziraphale says, her head going back on Crowley's shoulder as he wraps a hand around her, stroking her. Aziraphale makes an intoxicating little noise, and he knows he could finish her just like that, stroke her until she came in her panties. It sounds like fun, but it sounds like much more fun to get a little more interactive.

He pulls away, and she makes an indignant noise as he slaps her on the ass. "C'mon," he says. "Why don't you show me into your boudoir, where I can unwrap you properly."

"Were all your lines always this terrible?" she asks, though she pulls him along to her bedroom. 

"You know me better than that, angel," he says. "Of course they were."

Aziraphale barely makes it into the bedroom before she starts pulling at Crowley's clothing, managing to get his jacket off before he catches her wrists.

"I distinctly stated that I was doing the unwrapping," he says. "You stay out of it."

"That's hardly fair," she says, as Crowley undoes the buttons on her cardigan, sliding it off her shoulders and tossing it onto a chair. There's a waistcoat underneath it; it's not her favorite one, but she has two things that get in the way of that particular item of clothing. Crowley even managed to convince her to branch out in selecting a new one; it's brown tweed and extremely flattering.

Crowley is only half thinking about this, because he's racing through the buttons to get at what he really wants.

The waistcoat goes on the chair, and Crowley leans in, kissing her neck above the line of her collar. He catches the end of the tartan bowtie she was not convinced to give up, grabbing it between his teeth and pulling until the whole thing comes apart, sliding out of her collar. She doesn't respond except to gasp and bite her lip; Crowley just knows she'd like to protest, but she finds it too hot to say anything.

"We're getting there," Crowley says approvingly, taking her breasts in his hands and massaging them. It's worth a detour, because Aziraphale does have great tits. She knows he likes them, and he sometimes catches her trying to flaunt them when she wants something from him; it's only sometimes, because most of the time it works without Crowley noticing.

Aziraphale helpfully undoes the hook and zip of her skirt, which is fine because it's hard to work from his end. Crowley wiggles it down over her hips; he'd thought she'd go for something poofy, but these fit and flare numbers she's taken to are really doing it for him. He goes down with it, kissing the insides of her thighs, getting perilously close to her cock but avoiding it entirely.

He pops back up to get her shirt off; Aziraphale has already undone the top two buttons, and Crowley knocks her hands away so that he can greedily speed through the rest of them to get what he wants. He pushes it back over her shoulders, and while she's still trapped in it he darts in for a kiss, just one, before the shirt hits the chair too. 

She's wearing oxfords and little white socks, and they're endearing but awkward to take off, so they appear next to the chair with the rest of her clothing. It leaves her in white cotton panties and a matching bra, both with a restrained amount of lace detailing. Somehow they're both conservative and leave nothing to the imagination, her cock distending the front of her panties, her hard nipples easily visible under the lace of her bra.

"You look good enough to eat, angel," he says, running his finger underneath one of her bra straps, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath it.

"I demand you get some clothes off," she says. "I'm freezing and naked, and you're just standing there."

"You're not naked, but I'll humor you," he says, pulling off his shirt and shucking his tight jeans. "Now will you stop distracting me?"

Aziraphale sighs, but Crowley grabs her by the hips and pulls her forward, their cocks rubbing together in a delicious way. It's nothing to unhook her bra, and he pulls the offending garment off, tossing it away before taking her breasts into his hands, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She groans, leaning towards his mouth, and he lets his teeth scrape over her flesh. The noise she makes is intoxicating, so much so that he doesn't even call her out on it when she steals the opportunity to get his boxers off.

"You're a sneak," Crowley says, when he lets her go.

"You wanted to unwrap me," Aziraphale says. "No one said anything about you."

"Speaking of which," Crowley says, and he finally hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties, lifting them over her cock and pushing them down. He takes her into his hand immediately, stroking her in a loose grip. "Tell me what you want. I'd give you anything."

"Would you ride me?" Aziraphale asks, her thumb tracing over Crowley's bottom lip.

Crowley makes a low noise of deep satisfaction. "All day, if you'll let me."

"Maybe just once to start with," she says.

They're not far from the bed, so Crowley pushes her down on it, climbing in after her and straddling her hips. He kneels up, reaching behind himself with slick fingers, circling his hole for a moment before pressing inside. He doesn't technically need to do anything to get ready, but it gets Aziraphale off hard to watch him prep himself, show how much he wants it. He keeps it up, basking in the attention; she strokes her cock while he does it, like she doesn't have another choice in the face of it.

"Oh, Crowley," she sighs, and the sound of it pings through him like a pinball, seems to hit him in several places at once.

He pulls his fingers out, the mess disappearing from them immediately, which he thinks he didn't do. He sighs as he sinks down onto her, nice and smooth. He rocks his hips, enjoying the stretch of her thick cock inside of him. She's worrying her lower lip with her teeth, and Crowley loves everything about seeing her like this.

"Is that good, angel?" he asks.

Aziraphale just hums in response, putting a hand on Crowley's hip to guide him as he starts to ride her. He's too far into this for a quick fuck; he moves slowly, winding his hips, feeling every press of her within him. He angles to hit the right spot and groans, doing it again before moving more steadily, her cock all the way inside him on every thrust.

"My dearest," Aziraphale says, one of her hands gripping her breast, fingers digging into it as her palm slides over her nipple. "You look so good like this, my love."

Crowley leans forward, putting a hand on her opposite shoulder to brace himself. "You say that like you've never seen yourself," he says. "You're impossibly fucking hot."

Aziraphale laughs breathlessly. "A mutual admiration society then."

"If you're still using words with that many syllables, I'm not doing my job," Crowley says, moving faster.

It's not long after that that words fail both of them. There's nothing to be done but move faster, push for more. It's too good, all encompassing, the world narrowed down to the two of them. Crowley feels like there's never been anything outside this bed and there never will be again. It's how he feels about them all the time, that they are alone together, united in a way he never will be with another creature, but these are the times he actually lets himself acknowledge that fact, look it dead in the face instead of shying away.

"Crowley," Aziraphale pants, and he can feel it in the pit of his stomach, in his toes. "Love, I-"

"Yes," Crowley breathes. He grabs his own cock, stroking it quickly. "Yes, yes, angel."

Aziraphale's grip goes tight and tighter, her lacquered nails biting into his skin, leaving half-moon indentations that Crowley hopes will bruise. She's moving him now, thrusting up into him, and Crowley lets her do it, lets her have him. She gasps, her head going back, and Crowley comes almost immediately, feeling the pulse of her inside of him as she comes with him.

Crowley feels boneless when it's over, completely fucked out. She slips out of him, but he doesn't get off her, draping himself over her and resting his face in her tits. He will continue to do this until she pushes him off her, but for now she's swirling her fingertips through his hair, playing with it where it's wet with sweat. Aziraphale doesn't see the point of getting sweaty ever, but Crowley likes it after a good hard fuck, like he's accomplished something physically.

"Thank you for indulging me," Aziraphale says.

Crowley has no recollection of what she's talking about. He indulges her a lot, to be perfectly honest, so she could be talking about four different things. "Think nothing of it," he says, muffled by her skin.

"Are you ever going to move?" she asks, but she sounds amused.

"Nope," he says. "Perfectly fine right here."

"I rather think you are," she says. Crowley sighs despite himself, kissing the nearest part of her he can reach, and just lets himself relax.


End file.
